


pride itself

by tenderthings



Category: Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Cunnilingus, Drabble, F/M, Fingerfucking
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-14
Updated: 2015-11-14
Packaged: 2018-05-01 12:39:27
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 539
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5206202
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tenderthings/pseuds/tenderthings
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>This is his favorite part.</p>
<p>(in which the beast finds an equal)</p>
            </blockquote>





	pride itself

_This is his favorite part._

— Ecstasy, amounting, the near-screams and breathless sighs. The look she gives him as his mouth trails lower and lower.

The end: it’s so maddeningly close but Solas keeps her there, on the precipice, for as long as he so pleases.

_{Between her legs, he’s found a new home. He’s marked and claimed it with soft fingers and a clever tongue. And she — she is only too happy to give him what he needs.}_

 

 

 

Palms— hot on her thighs, fingers digging into tender, slick skin. She moans and sighs and gasps for him and only him.

 

Mouth— ravenous and hungry as he laps at her cunt, feasting and drinking her in. His own breath dispelled with every throaty laugh as she whimpers: _more, more, more_.

 

Taste— heady and heavy on his tongue, bound to memory by the gentle glide from hole to clit, repeat, repeat. She arches her back, curls her fists and he takes note.

 

Voice— broken by each twist of his fingers as he stretches and pulls and breaks her in half, only to remake her into someone different. Someone she has not known before him.

 

Breath— growing heavy with each second and he hums against her, his tongue flickering against her opening. She gasps and squirms, only to be held still by rough hands.

 

Fingers— wandering astray, over her pent up, feverish skin to his shoulders, to dig and scratch and plead. He mimics her and she cries a voiceless scream.

 

Hair— fanned across her face as she tosses against the pillows. Next time, he’ll bind her wrists.

 

Legs— spread wider, cunt on display for him. He pauses; she curses him and his forefathers, so he laughs and dips down, mouth to cunt again.

 

Hips— jutting up, fighting him, fighting the inevitable. No, no, she doesn’t want this end, _Solas, please_ but

 

Infinity— suspended by a thread over her and she reaches and reaches, and he tongues and fucks and flicks until she is distraught, until she is broken up by moans and the hitching of her hips, and he, the wolf between her thighs, becomes the apparition of pride itself as he watches her writhe.

 

 

 

Now, she lays there, a body strung together only by the heavy beat of her chest and the tingle of her skin. He crawls back up to her with a grin.

Like an animal, he is never sated. He wants, so badly, to sink his teeth into her neck and mark her. For now, in this moment, he is the sea after the storm— awaiting the next tempest.

He settles against her body, chest to chest, face to face, and kisses her. Life returns to her fragile fingers as they curl, gently, into his skin as she kisses him back.

When he pulls away, he finds her to be a pretty, pink mouth, flushed cheeks, and teary eyes. Loves shines through her gaze and he kisses away the ache in his chest.

 

 

 

_{Like this, she is the most beautiful thing he has ever seen. Like this, she is enough to quell his fiery heart and vanquish his want to destroy. Like this, he feels alive, right here, between her hips.}_

_{Like this, she belongs to him.}_

**Author's Note:**

> I should have been writing the second part to my Blackwall series but aha, this happened. *shrugs*
> 
> Request me to do stuff at: http://elfapostate.tumblr.com/


End file.
